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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25025707">DIPPs and other shits</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/here_comes_batman/pseuds/here_comes_batman'>here_comes_batman</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Depressed Hank Anderson, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson &amp; Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, Hank Anderson Swears, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), I mean what do you expect this is a story with hank anderson, Shoo if you're looking for hank/connor you won't find it here, Strong Language, There is no romance here, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombie!Connor, Zombies, human!hank</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:40:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25025707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/here_comes_batman/pseuds/here_comes_batman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>DIPP, Deviant Intergrational Pairing Program. Introduced to help integrate former mindless zombies (also known as Deviants) back into normal life, starting with the Detroit Police Department. </p><p>Ever since Kamski's cure for Alzheimers started turning people into zombies, the world had been in a state of chaos. Years of death and destruction swept over America before a 'cure' was found, giving zombies back control over their own mind. These 'cured' zombies, dubbed Deviants, are now trying to get back to living a normal life, despite still being dead, but that's a whole lot easier said than done. Especially when it comes to humans, who are still not willing to accept Deviants into their lives. </p><p> </p><p>AKA, Hank wonders what god he pissed off in his former life that he is stuck babysitting a rotten Deviant. He has more than enough work to get done already dammit.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The year is 2038, and a few years ago the world had ended. I know, dramatic right? Well, I'm maybe a bit overdramatic here, it's not like the whole entire world is in flames at the moment, but a few years ago it very nearly was. </p>
<p>You see, in 2029 a world famous Bio Engineer named Elijah Kamski developed what he believed to be the cure for alzheimer's and lovingly dubbed it Deviant. Testing for the new drug had gone splendidly, and after testing on rats, dogs and eventually even humans, Elijah managed to get his drug on the market and verified as a legitemate cure. </p>
<p>However, as you may expect, Deviant had some unforseen and disastrous side-effects. Within a few weeks of the first patients being treated with the rats the drug had been tested on started to rapidly die. Now that in itself had already been a very, very bad thing, but the situation became even more dire when the cursed things started coming back to life and killing anything they could kill. </p>
<p>Despite not only Elijah's best efforts, but also the world's leading Scientists and Doctors, the effects of the drugs on the patients were irreversable and incurable. People started dying as a result of being given Deviant, and coming back to 'life' with a ravenous hunger that could only be statisfied by mindless killing. Within 6 weeks the whole country had reported cases of the Deviant zombies, the growth steadily increasing as the weeks went by. Mindless killers roamed every state, killing millions and turning them into zombies themselves. </p>
<p>America went into full and total lockdown. Huge walls were built across all boarders to keep the zombies in and to prevent the spread the undead across other countries. Luckily it worked, but this meant that the american people were trapped and left to fend for themselves. Families were ripped apart as people were infected, and people were forced to kill bitten loved ones before they turned to spare them the pain of becoming undead. </p>
<p><br/>
By 2030, America was all but in shambles, and its fallen economy had affected the whole world greatly. And as American cities crumbled, the 'book of law' became more of a 'book of guidelines', and law enforcement (particularly the detective squads) had all but been forced into early retirement. </p>
<p>This went on for nearly two whole years, the situation escalating further and further until one day, at the beginning of 2033, Elijah finally found a 'cure'. The only downside was that this would not bring the zombies back to life. It would give them regular control over their own mind for a little while, but they would still be death on two legs...</p>
<p>With Elijah's cure though, the rapid growth of the zombie population slowed to a near stop almost overnight. Over the next few years, programs were started in Detroit, where Kamsi had his lab, to integrate zombies back into normal life and help rebuild the fallen society of America. The process was slow. Very slow. Clinics were opened where zombies, now dubbed Deviants, were able to get their regular 'cure' shot, and life started picking up again, slowly but surely. </p>
<p>People started getting used to the presence of Deviants, but were still distrusting, and angry. Most people had lost one, or sometimes multiple loved ones to zombies, and there was a certain tension between what was left of the human population and the reintegrated Deviant population. </p>
<p>Deviants and humans lived together for a while, though not without a fair bit of rules the Deviants had to follow. Though they were allowed to live alongside humans again, it was made very clear that after years of fear and death, the humans saw the Deviants as nothing but a threat. So despite living alongside humans, Deviants lived seperated. They had to wear arm bands at all times, indicating- warning people that they were undead, they had to take special compartments on the busses, they were forbidden to enter certain shops, restaurants or bars, and were unable to get any sort of high paying job. That is, if they were even able to get any job at all. </p>
<p>We start our story today in 2038, where the Detroit mayor had just announced its newest program: the 'Deviant Integrational Pairing Program', aka DIPP. It was to be tested on the law enforcement first, since that's one of the most highly stressfull occupations and that would, according to Kamsi, but a good test of the progress of Deviants. The concept was simple, pair a human with a Deviant to help said Deviant get back on their feet. But with tensions between humans and Deviants growing higher and higher every day, the DPD is in for one <em>hell</em> of a ride... </p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p><br/>
A young man stepped through the heavy glass doors of the precinct. His face was void of any emotion as he stalked up to the front desk and informed the lady behind the counter of his presence. </p>
<p>"My name is Connor... I am here for Lieutennant Anderson. I'm the Deviant sent by the DIPP."</p>
<p>The lady eyed him suspiciously, her eyes snapping briefly to his brightly colored green armband with an underlying disgust that Connor had seen many times, in many different people. He choose to ignore the look and when she threw her hand in the general direction of what Connor assumed to be Lieutennant Anderson's location, he turned and passed through the gates seperating the front desk from the precinct, his footsteps echoing across the hall as he made his way over to his new partner. </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Connor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Connor meets Hank. <br/>Hank is not pleased...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Connor could hear loud voices as he approached the bull pen. It sounded like there was an argument taking place. If he would be able to be nervous, he probably would be really nervous right about now. He doesn't remember a whole lot about his life before his death, but he was pretty sure he hadn't been all that sociable of a person to begin with. Being dead certainly hadn't done anything to help his cause either. He’d been dead for quite a while now, in fact, upon inspection the first time he’d been at the clinic they’d told him he’d been a zombie for almost four years.</p><p>That was three months ago, so he assumes it’s already been past the five year mark. He’d of course spent the majority of that time in a less… stable state of mind, but he supposed it was blessing he didn’t remember much of that. He’d probably died just before Kamski found a cure, but due to the overcrowding of the clinics and the sheer amount of zombies they had to cure, it took a while before Connor was found and given treatment.</p><p>He remembers waking up in a bed inside the clinic, arms and legs tied against the bed, and not feeling much of anything…except hunger. A deeply rooted, insatiable and ravenous hunger that he could not avoid thinking about no matter how much he tried. However the hunger started fading away with the days, as doctors and scientists kept giving him shot after shot after shot. He’d still not felt anything, but at least he hadn’t felt that mind consuming hunger anymore. After that he found himself being released from the clinic, but not having anywhere to go. So, he stayed at the clinic. Most of them did, whether they wanted to get used to their new way of life before returning to their families, or if they just had nowhere else to go like Connor. <br/><br/>As far as he knew, Connor didn’t have a family. After the news broke that zombies could be ‘cured’, families scrambled to clinics to leave their contact information in case one of their lost family members were found. None of Connor’s family had ever done that, so the nurses at the clinic had never been able to link Connor to any family. One day, a lady came to the clinic, asking around for Deviants that would like a chance to start over, have a… job of sorts. Connor had hesitated, but soon she had convinced him. “What have you got to lose?” she asked. She had been right.</p><p>The lady was called Amanda. She was a scientist and bio engineer, who worked with Kamksi and the mayor of Detroit to set up a program that would make the integration of Deviants more smoothly, and maybe make humanity warm up to Deviants a bit. As part of the program Connor would be paired with a detective at the Detroit Police Department. He wouldn’t get paid, but at least he would have something to do. He supposed nothing bad could come from it either. He signed the papers, and not a week later he was accepted into the program. That’s how he found himself here, in the busy halls of the DPD precinct, wondering how in the world he was going to go about this.</p><p>As he rounded the corner and stepped into the big and crowded room of the precinct, he stopped for a second, taking in the place and trying to locate his assigned partner. He did not miss the fact that every person in the precinct seemed to freeze in their tracks and stare at him as he started making his way over to the desks, checking for Lieutenant Anderson's. He didn't have much luck, but he had a nasty feeling that it might be the desk over in the middle of the precinct, the only one that was, as the humans would say: 'a whole mess'.</p><p>"Are you kidding me Fowler?!" A thunderous voice boomed through the precinct, catching Connor off guard. That didn't happen a lot. He saw two men, one of whom he assumed to be Fowler (the precinct captain, as he had learned from the DIPP files), and an older, tired looking man who was currently fuming.</p><p>"Now Hank, would you please calm down? I'm asking you-" Hank? As in Hank Anderson? Connor feared the worst. He didn't seem to be in a good mood at all...</p><p>"You're asking me? Me?! To take care of a fuckin' zombie? One of them crazy stinkin', rottin' mindless bastards? No! No way. No absolute fuckin' way in hell. Find somebody else." Hank spit angrily as he stormed his way through the room to his desk, Fowler stalking closely behind him.</p><p>"You know damn well there is nobody else Hank! And after that little escapade that you pulled last week, you don't have a choice."</p><p>Hank fell silent, his lips pressed firmly together, as if he was trying to weigh his chances of going up against the captain. After a short moment he apparently decided against it and threw himself in the chair next to his desk. A heavy sigh came from Fowler as he leaned down and sat on the edge of Hank's desk.</p><p>"Look, Hank. I know how you feel about Deviants. You have a history, I get it. But I got people on my back here. It's either this or you get suspended. I'm sorry Hank, there isn't anything I can do about it." Hank nodded with a scowl and waved the captain off, indicating that he wanted to be left alone.</p><p>As the captain stoop up from the desk, his eyes fell on Connor, who was still standing in the middle of the precinct, staring at them. His eyes fell to the green band around his arm, and that, together with his steely grey eyes and sickly complexion seemed to be enough for the captain to put two and two together.</p><p>"Ah here he is!" He said loudly, a smile appearing on his face that Connor couldn't decide was genuine or fake. He quickly walked over to Connor, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him over to the Lieutenant’s desk.</p><p>"Hank, this is- uh, Connor was it?" He asked as they came to a halt in front of Hank's desk.</p><p>"Correct. My name is Connor, I'm the Deviant sent as a part of the DIPP. I believe you are my new partner, Lieutenant".</p><p>"Oh Christ" Hank groaned, turning away from Connor and throwing a very angry look to Fowler. Fowler shrugged.</p><p>"You know what I said Hank." He said, as he turned around and walked back into his office, leaving Connor and Hank by themselves.</p><p>Connor wasn't really sure what to do at this point, since all the instructions he was given by his advisors at the DIPP headquarters was to 'assist Lieutenant Anderson in any and all investigative work'. So far, it seemed to Connor that that was going to be a challenge in and of itself, given the Lieutenant’s apparent disliking towards Deviants. He wondered briefly if he should avoid the trouble and send Amanda a request for a new partner. But he decided against it. Amanda probably had more pressing issues to deal with either way, being the lead organiser of the DIPP and all.</p><p>Connor stood next to Hank's desk for a few seconds, contemplating his next action, when the lieutenant huffed. "You gonna awkwardly keep standing there?"</p><p>Connor snapped his attention to the lieutenant and shook his head. "Deviants are not able to feel awkward Lieutenant. We-" Hank held up his hand, cutting him off and standing up behind his desk, glaring at Connor.</p><p>"Listen here you little punk. I've got enough work to do without you standing around and stinkin' up my workspace. Now if you wanna be of help to me, either go get me a god damned coffee or stay outta my way. I'm not here to play political games, I'm here to solve a fucking murder." Hank says, hitting Connor in the should with his finger.</p><p>Connor took a step back and nodded firmly. He'd read about Hank's current assigned case in the files DIPP provided him with. An apparent Deviant attack in a villa uptown. He'd spent hours looking through the official report yesterday, trying to find some leads to impress his new partner with. He hadn’t found much, but he did have an interest in finding the perpetrator.</p><p>“Carl Manfred’s case, am I correct? A seemingly savage Deviant attacked an elderly man in his art studio yesterday.” Connor said. Hank nodded once, shifting through the different tablets on his desk. “The man came home with his caregiver after a benefit and they were both ruthlessly attacked. Neighbours report it was the gardener. He was a Deviant who was working for Carl.”</p><p>Hank started getting up, getting his coat and keys before pushing past Connor towards the entrance. Connor still stood by Hank’s desk, staring after him as he strode through the precinct with a scowl on his face. Just before going through the glass gates Hank turned around and frowned when he saw that Connor was still at his desk. <br/><br/>“Are you coming, or what?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Heya so I've decided to continue this story! I really hope I'll have the motivation to continue to write more and actually finish one of my stories lol, but I'll try to write every chapter in a way that it doesn't end on a cliffhanger lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Manfred Mansion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hank and Connor investigate the crime scene of a Deviant attack. Apparently a Deviant living with an elderly artist went crazy and attacked the man. But is there more to the story?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The road glinstered with traffic lights reflecting on the wet pavement as the old timer raced over them. Heavy rain was tapping against the windows of the car and Connor watched as raindrops slid down the glass. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, and the sky had turned a bright orange. Connor liked sunsets, especially in the rain. In the right angle, the sun would hit the raindrops just right, making them appear almost liquid gold.</p><p><br/>The newly paired detective duo was sitting in the car, a heavy silence between them. Well, as much silence as there could be with the heavy rain and deafening music blaring over the speakers of the old car. Connor wondered vaguely if this was the music Hank usually listened to, or if he was just trying to put on music he thought would fit the mood. He spotted a CD cover laying on the floor near his feet. 'Knights of the black death'. Huh. Connor supposed that name was kind of ironic. Though he usually didn't have much of an emotion (or reaction) to music or its many, many genres, he found that he didn't particularly liked listening to this kind of music. It didn't seem to even be music, people were just screaming in the microphone with a beat under it. </p><p>A flash of a memory comes back to him. An abandoned store, a few humans in the back of it. Screaming, the wife shielding her children, the husband shielding his wife. So much screaming and so much fear-</p><p>"Hey Lamebrain, you okay in there?" Came the gruff voice of Lieutenant Anderson, drowing out the screams Connor was still hearing at the back of his head. He quickly nodded, trying to hide whatever it was that he just experienced. He'd never ever had that before. Was it a memory? He hoped it wasn't, he was sure it would have ended well for that family. His mind drifted off again for a second before Hank's voice took him back to the real world again. He'd pulled the car over on the side of the road, where a gravel path began that led to the entrance of the Manfred mansion and gotten out of the car, leaning down so he could talk to Connor. </p><p>"Good. We're here. Now listen here Dead Beat. I'm going to go in for this investigation, and you are going to stay in the car. I got a lot of things on my mind and I don't want you running around distracting me, got it?" </p><p>Before Connor could answer, Hank had already smashed the car in his face and was walking away from the car towards the gravel path. Connor was confused for a second, debating if he should follow Hank's orders to stay put or follow Amanda's orders to complete the program. After a few seconds, he decided to get out of the car and follow the detective onto the huge crime scene.</p><p>The huge mansion loomed over him as he made his way over to Hank, who was standing next to another officer, listening to a short briefing. As he approached, he saw the officer's gaze flicker over to him nervously before he regained his composure and decided to ignore his excistance completely for the time being. This made Hank turn around too though, and it seemed he wasn't too thrilled about Connor's presence either. </p><p>"Oh for fuck's sake. I thought I told you to stay in the car! What part about that don't you understand?" Hank said, putting a hand on Connor's shoulder and attempting to turn him away towards the car. </p><p>"I am here to assist you in this investigation Lieutenant." Connor said firmly, planting his heels in the ground. "That means accompanying you to the crime scene. I'm afraid I cannot stay in the car." He waited for a few moments, tentatively searching the Lieutenant's face for any kind of emotion. So far all he could make out was annoyance and maybe some exhaustion.</p><p>Hank let an annoyed groan that to Connor vaguely sounded like "Fine." Before turning around and walking up the marble steps to the massive mansion. Connor trailed behind him, careful not to slip on the wet stone. </p><p>"The owner of the house is Carl Manfred. He was livin' with a Deviant and his only son when his Deviant snapped and attacked the old man. According to friends and family the old man was real close to the Deviant, treating him like his own son and everythin'." Hank started, relying the info he'd undoubtedly just been briefed by the other officer to Connor. </p><p><br/>"It happened sometime around 10PM as Manfred was having his whiskey in his studio. The man's a famous painter you know. Apparently he's quite the <em>celebrity</em>." He spat the last part out almost sarcastically, and Connor nodded along patiently as Hank led them inside, ignoring the dozen police officers who were scattered around the hallway all looking at them, or rather, him. Hank just continued on walking. </p><p>"Son was upstairs in his room when it happened- doing god knows what-" </p><p>"Listening to music." Connor interrupts him. Hanks stops in his tracks, just in front of the big sliding doors to the living room and shoots Connor a questioning look. </p><p>"I read up on the case last night so I could come prepared..." He said, trailing off sowly. Hank's eyed narrowed, and for a milisecond Connor swore there was a hint of approval, but it was gone before he could even blink. You know, if he'd needed to blink...</p><p>"Anyhow, the son- what was his name again?" Hank wondered out loud as they entered the living room. Connor truly didn't know if this was Hank testing his knowlegde of the case, if Hank's memory was just faulty, or if he just didn't care enough to remember the details of the case. He'd known the guy for all of a day and he supposed it might have been all three. </p><p>"Leo." </p><p>"Right. That. He was upstairs in his room listening to music so he didn't hear anything that went down in the studio, they were practically on the other side of the house. He found his dad unconscious when he was downstairs to get something to eat. A few hours later. They're both fine, apart from some scratches and bruises on the old man, but the Deviant is nowhere to be found." </p><p>They stepped into the studio, and right away Connor could tell the obvious signs of a struggle. Paint cans were scattered around the floor, their contents a colourful contrast against the grey concrete. Shreds and splinters of what once had been empty canvases littered around the room, and pencils and brushes were strewn around carelessly. It was absolute chaos. It was hard to even walk around without disturbing the crime scene. It was like Hank could read Connor's mind though, because he cleared his throat and gestured at the mess. </p><p>"Forensics has already had time to analyse everything, so you don't have to worry about messing up the evidence. We just have to focus on what we gotta do." </p><p>Connor's eye fell onto the broken window and he walked over to it. The window had been shattered, but not fallen out just yet. Blood stained the center cracks, so Connor assumes that the Deviant pushed Manfred into the window. Deviants don't have any blood to bleed after all. After a while of searching around the room, Hank sighs heavily and gets up from his crouched position next to a particular messy corner. </p><p>"Well, I'm not finding anything here. Let's try and see if we can find some shit upstairs. Let's get this over with so I can get home. Or a bar. Whichever is closest." He lets out a bitter laugh at his own 'joke' and heads for the door. Connor hadn't been succesful either in locating any evidence, and decides to follow Hank. Though, something about the scene had seemed off to him. Why would a Deviant who had so much love and compassion from a human snap like that? What could have possibly happened that made him attack the only person who would treat him with respect? Could he have forgotten his medicine?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Something wasn't adding up.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Connor let his eyes roam around the room one last time as he followed Hank back out to the livingroom. "The situation is... odd Lieutenant.' Connor spoke, trying to take in as much as possible from the livingroom despite it not being an important part of the crimescene. Hank scoffed as they walked back into the hallway. </p><p>"No shit. Why would someone ever take in a <em>Deviant</em>? This sorta thing is bound to happen- no offense." Connor shook his head, indicating he didn't take any. He couldn't really feel offended anyway, he guesses that was the upside of having little to no emotions. </p><p>"I mean about the attack. The Deviant would have no reason to attack it's caretaker, so how could it just snap like that? You saw the chaos it created. What made it so angry?" He wondered out loud, stepping onto the grand stairway. </p><p>Hank shrugged, not really seeming like he cared a lot. "Must be something up with those medicine they keep giving the lot of ya. It's what keeps you sane innit?" Now it was Connor's turn to nod. Without his medicine he would quite literally go back to being a mindless monster. </p><p>He almost shivvered at the thought... <em>Almost</em>.</p><p>"Do we have any more updates on the Deviant's wearabouts?" He asked, trying to keep up with Hank as he strode across the broad hallway to a door on the far end of the corridor. </p><p>"Not yet, but maybe we can get some clues in here." He said, stopping in front of a heavy wooden door and pushing it open. </p><p>"The Deviant's room." Connor stated. Hank nodded as he stepped into the neat room. Contrary to the mess made downstairs, the room was tidy, clean, and well organised. The bed was made, but Connor supposed that was because the Deviant didn't use it much. Deviants couldn't sleep anyway, and if they did it was more of a '<em>laying down with your eyes closed</em>' type of deal. They just didn't need sleep like the humans do. </p><p>As Connor made his way across the room, he spotted a framed picture on the desk of three men in the backyard of the mansion. Carl, Leo and the Deviant. Beneath it, engraved in the silver lined framing, was the text:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Carl, Markus and Leo, 2036. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>So Markus is the Deviant's name. In all the reports Connor had gone through he'd not read it once. The humans really must have not cared enough to find out. Connor looked at the picture again, its screen flickering slightly. Markus was in the middle, smiling timidly with one arm around Carl- who in turn had an arm around Markus- with Leo standing next to them, arms crossed in front of himself. Carl was smiling brightly, with a kind of fatherly pride towards his boys. Carl and Markus really must have been close, Connor noted. He also noted that Leo seemed to be hiding a glare at the pair, his eyes dark and his brow slightly furrowed.</p><p>
  <em>Odd...</em>
</p><p>Next to the frame was a box full of pills. Connor knew that box all to well, he had an identical one sitting on his own desk back at the center. Every Deviant got one upon discharge, along with an pocket case they could use in emergencies. It was one of those handy ones, where it displayed the days of the week on each indivudual compartment, almost like a calendar. Connor pried the box open, peering inside. He immediately noticed something. "Lieutenant?" He called, looking back at Hank, who was standing over by the window. Hank looked up at him with surprise. </p><p>"The attack was yesterday, correct?" Hank nodded in agreement, and made his way over to Connor. </p><p>"According to this box Lieutenant, Markus had indeed taken his pills on the day if the attack." He did not miss the little curse that escaped Hank as he showed him the empty compartment for the previous day. </p><p>"Markus?" Hank asked eventually. Raising an eyebrow. Connor nodded firmly "The Deviant's name, Lieutenant." </p><p>Hank shook his head in a defeated fashion. "I guess it's not just a simple case of a Deviant losing its mind then?" He asked, not particularly to Connor, but more so to himself. He probably already knew the answer anyway. </p><p>"I'm afraid not Lieutenant, I think-" Connor cut himself off when something shiny just behind the front leg of the bed. He hurried over and snatched the object from under it, holding it up to show it to Hank.</p><p>Hank gave it a quick once-over and ran a tired hand over his face. It was a seringe. Inside it was empty, but from here they could still see traces of a blue liquid staining the glass and the shiny needle. </p><p>"I <em>think</em> that it might have been a set-up."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hey yall another chapter!! </p><p>I'm having a bit of trouble keeping the pacing of the story at a good tempo. I could really use you guys's opinion, do you think it's good/dragging/too fast? Does anyone have any tips to avoid having a whack pacing? Let me know! :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyaaaa whatttt I'm here with a new one shot? Imagine? Prompt?? What is life lol. It's currently WAY too late but this idea just came to me and I HAD to write it down.</p><p>I'm thinking of writing more, would anybody be up for that?? Lmk in the comments yall!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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